


Blood Demons

by ArgylePirateWD



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood Magic, Demons, Family, Gen, Haunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-18 10:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8158321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/pseuds/ArgylePirateWD
Summary: Liz hasn't dealt with the supernatural since she was a child, but she's never stopped believing. And she's always thought it would come back to haunt her someday.She was right.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reeby10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeby10/gifts).



> Decided to combine several of the groups of characters you requested: "Twin Sister & Twin Sister," "Human & Slime Monster" (sort of), and "Master Magic User & Apprentice Magic User & Demon." Hope you like it. :)

It's been following them for weeks. Liz doesn't know what It is, just that It stinks of rot and iron and sulfur, and It wants them both so much she can feel Its craving on her skin, slithering over her flesh like oil, oozing like slime.

Sometimes, she sees It out of the corner of her eye—an amorphous, glistening impression in the air that slinks into shadow when she tries to get a better look. Sometimes, It's behind her in the mirror, a menacing shape that becomes something else when she turns her head. It's covered in red, darker and redder than her ginger hair. She wants to believe It's just naturally red, but she's a nurse. She knows blood when she sees it.

Ellie doesn't see It. She's smart, but, bless her, Ellie never has been any good at seeing what's not right in front of her face. Always calls Liz paranoid when Liz gets another rune tattooed on her skin, or buys another protective amulet, or wastes her time trying to get Ellie to protect herself better.

"I'm a cop," Ellie says, shoving the canister of salt back into Liz's hands, tossing Liz's advice aside like trash. "I don't need this ridiculous shit."

But all the badges and guns and handcuffs in the world won't protect them from It. Daddy taught Liz better than that, tried to teach Ellie, too, but it didn't stick—not after the Greene Mirror took him.

And that scares the hell out of Liz. She and Ellie aren't that much alike, no, but there's never been a Liz Pafford without an Ellie Pafford at her side. They're twins. If she loses Ellie... no. Liz refuses to think about that.

The thought is always there now, though, lurking just like the thing chasing them, and the sick knot of acid burning the pit of Liz's stomach won't go away. The spirit or monster or whatever-It-is is getting closer, Ellie's not listening, and Liz doesn't know if she can keep her sister alive this time. Or herself.

It trails Liz when she goes to Aunt Maura's house, skulking behind every tree, almost transparent in the afternoon light. Heat soaks into Liz's back, not from the sun, but from It. Its malice weighs heavy on her shoulders, Its hot breath burns the nape of her neck, floods her nerves with a terrible chill.

 _Run_ , her brain tells her. _Run._

"Never have been one to run," she says to herself, and knocks on her aunt's door instead.

When Maura opens the door, Liz greets her with, "I need Daddy's book," in lieu of a hello.

"The grimoire?" Aunt Maura arches an eyebrow, and invites Liz inside. "What in Heaven's name do you need that for?"

Maura gets coffee for them both. It's too acidic, too sweet, too hot, like her aunt's coffee always is. Liz drinks it as she tells Aunt Maura everything, from the creature lurking in the shadows to Ellie's stubborn refusal to believe. When she's finished, Maura whistles sharply and says, "Lizzie-Belle Pafford, you're in a pickle."

The name "Lizzie-Belle" usually makes her smile—only Daddy and Aunt Maura have ever called her that. This time, it twists the cold knot in Liz's belly. With a grim nod, she says, "I know."

"I don't think you do." Maura sets down her coffee and leans across the dining room table. "You don't need your daddy's grimoire—you need an expert, 'cause that's not just any ol' nasty you've got there. That's a blood demon."

"Demon?" Liz's jaw drops. "Daddy never said—"

"He didn't?" Maura groans. "Of course he didn't. Always too optimistic. Us Pafford kids ain't supposed to be optimists, but Mark?" Maura shakes her head. "Liked to pretend some of the things we see weren't real, especially after you girls were born. Didn't want you kids to know about demons."

"Or he was in denial?" Liz says.

Maura shrugs a shoulder. "Could be. He always did like sailing down that river. Either way, messin' with demons when all you've got's a book and some know-how about ghosts and ghouls? That ain't just stupid—it's suicidal, _especially_ when it's a blood demon chasing you. Can't take down a blood demon without blood, and there's no way I'm gonna let you do it all by yourself.

"I think," Maura says, "it's high time I came out of retirement."


End file.
